the only way to get there is to go straight down

Lately I've been wishing for a BPD episode. Anything to shake up the dank, dreary depression that's threatening to block out the whole world. I remember hypomania with fondness... I miss anger, rage, fury - emotions of any kind - as lately I seem to be a blank/black canvas. I'm barely managing to keep my job, getting to work about two days out of five, spending the rest of my time sleeping. I used to blame my anaemia for the sleeping... but lately I've realised that the iron infusion must have kicked in by now, and therefore depression is probably the cause. If I'm honest, this spell of depression has been creeping up on me for months, starting before I raised my Cymbalta level to 120mg. Changing that medication has done nothing, supporting the research I keep reading about which says doses higher than 60mg are pointless.

I don't get paid for the days I'm having off, so I haven't been able to afford to see Doc A. But I'm making the effort this week, and scraping the cash together, as the situation is getting dire. I know he will suggest starting Lamotrigine, as that was one of his suggestions last time. I don't know why I'm on the fence about Lamotrigine...part of it is the cost, especially now I'm verging on unemployed, and part of it is because it's always been in reserve. For "just in case". If I start using Lamotrigine, what will I have left for next time the medication fails me??? More Lamotrigine I suppose.

I spent another day in hospital last week, having upper and lower gastrointestinal tract exams to check for bleeding. Nothing showed up, so my anaemia is unexplained. The haematologist believes it's related to my weight loss surgery. Regardless of the cause, I am still as light-headed and exhausted as ever. I have the Ignite Your Life course this weekend, Friday to Sunday, and I'm dreading it. I have no idea how I will manage to be upfront, present and awake for all those hours, when I usually spend half the weekend asleep. I'm desperate for some relief from this depression, though, and anecdotal evidence suggests this course can provide it. My parents and brother have done the course, and found it inspiring and energising and claim there were a few people who were previously medicated for depression (unipolar and bipolar) that now no longer need medication. I'm skeptical. And don't intend to give up my medication for anyone/anything. I'm a true believer, even though at the moment it doesn't seem to be doing much for me.

I was talking to my family about this course a couple of weeks ago and confessed that I really don't think the course organisers will have come across anyone as lunatic as me. Anyone as recidivist and recalcitrant. Are they prepared for someone whose only goal in life is to not complete suicide? They sent out this pre-course questionnaire and it had all these questions like "What are you most proud of?", "Name four emotional states you regularly experience", "What are your motivations for doing this course". Even reading the questions made me exhausted and hopeless. "How would you describe yourself" was one, and my immediate answer was "fat, fucked, failure". I can't decide if right now is the best or worst time for Ignite Your Life... most of me, the hopeful part, believes that things happen for the right reasons, and therefore it must be the best time. I really, truly hope to experience some life-altering changes. I can't wait to update you all next week.

I'm sorry I haven't been commenting as much on your blogs as I have in the past. I feel like anything I say will be negative and pointless, so often I will stay silent. But I'm still reading, and I hope everyone who's going through a hard time right now will soon be on an upswing. Lots of love to all xx

sirens they come, sirens they go

Post title is from another Horrible Crowes song "Blood Loss".



I had a fantastic time in Melbourne. Since I've been back, however, the darkness has been trying hard to claim me again. I ended up having another week off work after I got back, simply because getting out of bed was too difficult, too painful. I can't decide if what I'm feeling is simple exhaustion, due to the anemia, or the return of depression my old friend/foe. All I know is it's fracking hard to accomplish anything, and days will pass without showering, speaking to anyone except Neil (and then it's just the basic exhange of words), or eating anything apart from caramel biscuits.



Didn't you all LOVE this card from PostSecret this week?

I think this is what's going on for Neil at the moment. He seems to have given up trying to inspire or encourage me to get my arse out of bed and to work. He said to me the other day "I'm scared of pushing you over the edge", and I felt so damn guilty... I'm constantly aware of the fact that he lost his dad and his brother to suicide and that he must worry so much about me. I just can't seem to get motivated enough to get moving.

I have a couple of hopeful moments ahead of me. I see a haematologist tomorrow about my anaemia and he will book me in for an iron tranfusion. This entails being hooked up to an IV for six hours in hospital while I'm pumped full of iron. A couple of people I know swear by these transfusions and I'm praying that I get booked in for one in the next few weeks. Having more physical energy must have a positive effect on my mental pain. The other thing is my parents and my brother are paying for me to do a course entitled "Ignite Your Life" - a three day course in self-development and transformation that the three of them have done in the past, and which they swear will have an amazing effect on my life and attitude. I'm slightly cynical, even though I've seen the difference in them and it's pretty profound. I really hope to gain benefit from the course, and maybe finally have clarity in my path in life. I have a fantastic relationship with Neil, and for that I am eternally grateful, but pretty much everything else in my life is dismal. "Ignite Your Life" runs from November 11 - 13.

I'm sorry I've been absent from this page for so long. It's been hard to know what to say, when all I've been feeling is BLAH. But despite my gloomiest of outlooks, there is still a persistent, hopeful chink of light at the end of this tunnel. And that's what keeps me going, slow and steady.

ain't nobody who can sing like me

The improvement is slight but it's definite. A few days ago I started taking my Cymbalta at night instead of when I wake up, as I thought it might help with the early morning moodiness. Although my sleep has suffered, and I wake up more easily through the night and don't feel as "rested", there seems to be a marked difference in my morning attitude. Whether this is just because the increase to 120mg has started to work (Doc A said it would take a week to feel 10% better), who knows, but I'm grateful for the improvement. I don't feel the dragging, energy-sapping dread upon waking. I'm almost "perky". Well...almost!! I'm planning to continue the evening dose as long as I don't start waking up early (pre 6.30am), start to feel extra tired during the day, or get manic. I'm still averaging seven or eight hours of sleep a night which is less than I usually need but still plenty.

The last couple of days have seen the suicidal thoughts almost disappear. I can't describe what a relief that is, and anyone who has been there will know exactly what I mean. Part of the relief is that I now feel enthusiastic about my upcoming birthday (Sunday 19th). We have some great plans, so I was feeling very depressed about being depressed (LOL). Now, for the first time in quite a few weeks, I feel life coming back into my heart and mind and excitement starting to build. Hooray for turning 41! I have to say, so far being in my 40s has been wonderful (-: Meeting Neil was one of the best things to ever happen to me, and I'm so thankful he has put up with me and continued to be calm and stable and love me through this last bleak episode. I guess it really is true love!

My plans for my birthday are as follows: Saturday night we are going out to watch a Roller Derby bout with some of Neil's friends from work. Then the two of us will go on to a strip club, just for a laugh and to hopefully get in the mood for some hijinks in the bedroom *blush*. We've been to this particular club before and enjoyed some lapdancing; Neil loves the fact that I am openminded and keen on this kind of thing. The girls there are really nice and sweet, and are always extra friendly to women. On Sunday we are going out to the movies to see Super 8 (even though I am petrified of aliens and I think this movie is about aliens!!) and then out for a pizza dinner with my parents. Monday night I am going out with Michelle to see Bridesmaids, which I can't wait to see. I've heard so many good things about it! So all in all I think the next few days are going to be super fun. One of the things I love most about my birthday is my friend H always sends me the BEST presents. Well, last year she was visiting so she gave them to me in person, but as she lives in a different state she usually posts them and isn't it fun to get packages in the mail?? I LOVE it. We are both into the same girly, selfhelp, pink, Barbie, princessy type things so I always love her presents. She spoils me rotten.

I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record, but thank you SO MUCH to everyone who commented on the last few posts. I hadn't realised that I was having some BPD issues with Neil until your comments pointed it out, so massive thanks. Big hugs to my darling Kate (Lucid Intervals), BPDisme2, Shattered One (Walking the Borderline), Afton (In the Pink), Pixie (Cloud Illusions), Saracide (Borderline Psychobabble), Sairs (This Lunatic Express), Linda (Blue Skies, Cloudy Days), D'Artagnan (Living in Iowa), and a smiley welcome to Lola (Moose Lips Sink Ships) and www.friendtoyourself.com

I really love Billy Bragg, and he recorded a great song with the band Wilco called Way Over Yonder in The Minor Key (previous post title). The second line to the chorus is "ain't nobody who can sing like me", hence the title for today. The song was used nicely in the recent rom com movie Love and Other Drugs, which starred the gorgeous Anne Hathaway. Did anyone see the film? I thought the themes were interesting, especially how much time, money and energy went into finding a successful drug to "cure" male impotence compared to drugs to cure Parkinsons Disease (and also, I believe, to find cures for illnesses like depression, and other girly things like PMT haha).

That's all from me for now, and I can't help but be hopeful that my positive mood lasts and that the next post will be just as sparkly. Wishing you all love, happiness and peace xx

born to try

Updating on yesterday's post, I'm feeling slightly stronger. I laid it all on the line to Doc A and he was angry I hadn't let him know sooner. I told him I struggle with my identity in therapy - for instance, he often tells me I am the "perfect" patient, or a "good" patient, and I hate to let him down and lose that validation. I don't want to admit to him that I am suffering suicidal thoughts, or languishing in the doldrums. It's really stupid. Honesty is the cornerstone of therapy, after all, so I'm accomplishing nothing by lying or avoiding the truth.

Anyway, after asking a lot of questions about potential triggers and behaviours, Doc A decided that this latest slump of mine is not BPD related, and in fact is "simple" biological depression. So the solution is medication tweaking - I am testing out 120mg of Cymbalta daily for the next week and if that has no effect I have a prescription for Lamotrigine/Lamictal. Which I would take in addition to the Cymbalta. I feel kind of trendy, even being considered for Lamotrigine, because I know a few other bloggers who take it and it seems to be quite successful. Apparently there is a well-known side effect of "Lamotrigine rash", and if that occurs I have to stop taking it. I'm hoping that the extra Cymbalta does the trick, because that way I have the Lamotrigine in reserve for any future episodes. It truly sucks the way that medication "poops out" (Doc A says this is the technical term LOL) and our brain chemistry works its way around our meds. I wish it was as simple as finding one medication and sticking to it for the rest of my life. I know I'm not alone, but in the last seven years I've taken eight different anti-depressants and an anti-psychotic. Apart from the meds, I've also tried Kava, St John's Wort and Valerian. Then when you add to that the hypnotherapy, acupuncture, Chinese medicine, naturopathy, etc, it's all a little overwhelming. I know y'all can relate!!

I ended up telling Neil about my suicidal thoughts; even though I knew it would worry him I couldn't keep lying. I'm pathologically honest these days after The Marriage That Truth Forgot. He was concerned, and interested in what Doc A had to say, and ultimately said he was happy I had confided in him. We're both confident that the extra medication will help level out my moods.

In other health news, I have an appointment with Dr Paul (my lupus specialist) on June 29th and am on the waiting lists at three hospitals for my gastroscopy/colonoscopy to check for ulcers/polyps/etc. I've been on iron supplements for a couple of weeks and I feel slightly less tired (which could be the caffiene tablets I'm taking!) and breathless. I feel like my health, both mental and physical, is a waiting game at the moment. Just need to be patient and see how it pans out... Need I point out that patience is NOT one of my virtues (-:

Thank you so much to everyone who commented on yesterday's post, and to Linda who posted a great song on her blog for me. It means so much that people are listening and understanding xx

(NB: Born To Try is a song by an Aussie called Delta Goodrem, who I believe appeared on the US version of Dancing With The Stars recently.)

down among the dead men

Sometimes it's a hard life. I'm really struggling today, and had to take not one but two Valium in order to calm myself down enough to stay at work. All I could think about was running away. Pills, alcohol, car accidents, suicide, hospitals. Now, in the deadened calm of the diazepam, I just feel hollow and numb. Relief. I've been listening to some comedy TV shows on my iPhone to try and penetrate the gloom. Thankfully, I have my monthly appointment with Doc A this afternoon so am leaving work an hour early. I'm going to ask for more Valium (he reluctantly gave me a 20 tablet script last month which I haven't used yet but I'm worried I am going to need more). I'm wondering if he'll offer me more Cymbalta, as I'm on 90mg daily and there's evidence a higher dose might work better. I think I need a referral to a psychologist to work more intensely on CBT.

The suicidal ideation and self-harm is a real concern for me. It's been getting worse over the last few weeks. The other day I gathered all the pills in the house (and there are a lot, as Neil's mum gives us packets of her prescription-only high strength pain medication - don't ask me why!) and seriously considered taking them. I wanted to sleep forever, or end up away from everything in hospital. I'm annoyed with myself for the urge to run away. In the end, I could not do that to Neil. His dad gassed himself in the family car when Neil was in his 20s and ten years later his brother eventually hung himself after a few attempted overdoses. When he finally succeeded, it was Neil who went around to the house and found his brother's body. I just can't do that to him again. He deserves better than me. I wish I was healthy for him as well as for me.

I wonder what he must really think of me, now that we live together and he sees my daily struggle. Struggle to get out of bed, wash, dress, go to work, cook, clean, converse... Do I remind him of his dead brother, weak father, depressed mother... Does he compare me to his previous crackpot girlfriends... I don't doubt he loves me, but I worry sometimes how easy it is for pity to creep in.

Flash 'n the Pan had a hit in 1978 with a song by the same title as this post.

just a jump to the left

And then a step to the right. To and fro, up and down, here and there. Life is a comedy of swings and roundabouts lately, and if I didn't know better I would wonder if I were experiencing a mixed episode... Recently I spent the majority of ten days in bed, paralysed with the crippling grief of depression and swallowed whole by a black cloud. An appointment with Doc A (the first one in 3 months due to his vacation) had me upping my Cymbalta meds and since then things have improved. But one of the things I instigated while I was languishing in my depressive episode was to quit my job.

Rather than it being an impulsive act, or the result of a breakdown, I decided to quit because my job has steadily become too easy, too boring, too pointless, too... well, too simple to just not go. There are a lot of positives, and they were very kind to me last year when I had my month of mental health leave, but in the end it was time for me to move on. I've decided to look for full-time work, which is terrifying but necessary. I need money. I need private health insurance, and to pay $500 to finalise my divorce. I need a decent haircut and colour. I need new shoes. I've been finding it increasingly impossible to live on the part-time wage I was receiving, so I have to at least TRY to work more hours. I've done it before, and I believe that if I find a job that's halfway interesting and productive I will be happy to go full-time. Even if it's just for six months or a year until I get ahead again.

I can't lie, though, it's a scary proposition. I am used to having four days a week to spend in bed recovering from working three days. I am used to a slack workplace that expects very little where I can (as I am now!!) check blogs, write emails and apply for other jobs without anyone commenting. Bring it on, though. I kind of look forward to having expectations placed upon me, I almost believe that I will rise to the occasion and perform as required. At the moment, even though so little is required of me, I still languish in depression and lazy bed-ridden-ness. My mum made the point that I may as well "die trying"!! If I am going to have a massive meltdown why not do it while earning stacks of money and doing a high-faluting job??

Thus far, I've had a few interviews and been offered one job which seemed to be nearly as boring as the one I have now. I have until March 3 at my current position, so there's time to find something. Neil and I are going to Melbourne tomorrow for a few days holiday, which I am SO looking forward to. I get to introduce him to my friend H, and we are going to a great zoo over there which has open range safari type landscape with African animals. My parents paid for the plane tickets as a Christmas present, and Neil has saved up the spending money as I am ridiculously poor )-: I am looking forward to the break, and some time spent with my lovely boy. We had a great Valentine's yesterday, went out for dinner and talked about possibly moving in together at some stage over the next few months. YIKES!! Big changes!

empty as a pocket with nothing to lose

This is not a good time in the Life of Lil. I had a bit of a heartbreak/letdown when Colin decided he preferred another to me, and that stupid event has escalated into a full-scale breakdown, leaving me unable to work and on disability for at least a month. I really need help to get a handle on my emotions, and my desperate need to be liked/loved/dated.

I am going through a massive medication change, along with intensive therapy with Doc A, trying to find a pathway through this darkness. The Prozac is clearly not working, as I am on a high dose and still feel depressed 90% of the time, which could definitely be avoidance but I am willing to try a medication change to see if it helps. I start on Cymbalta on Monday, and I have increased my anti-psychotic Solian six-fold which has helped me feel more integrated. I had a couple of hideous dissociative episodes ten days ago, which prompted the increase in the Solian, and it's helped. I am also scoffing Valium like it's going out of fashion, just to keep the edges softer and the panic at a bearable level.

I can't believe after a year of solid and productive work I am back at square one. I'm annoyed with myself for letting a man affect me so profoundly, especially a man I had only been out with twice. Ridiculous. I obviously need to take myself out of this internet dating scene, but it's developed into a full-scale addiction... I don't know what to replace it with, what I would look forward to if not the potential for love and companionship.

I am cripplingly lonely.

This is not something I would admit for the longest time, but having to cope with the "loss" of Colin, or the POTENTIAL of him anyway, has shown me how much I have started to rely on the possiblility of being with someone. That terrible temptation to fill the BPD Big Empty with someone else, to place my terrors on someone else's shoulders and hope they can bear them better than I. It's a disaster.

I don't have internet access at home just now, Michelle has left for two weeks and taken it with her, so dragged myself to the local shops to use the public access booth - just to post an update and apologise for not being around lately. I am hopeful of a change in weather and circumstance. Keep your good vibes coming my way, and I will do the same back yáll.

it's life, Jim, but not as we know it

Pitiful update on pathetic life.

I am struggling to even string a sentence together these days, which is why I've been absent from this page. I'm here now to reassure those of you who have noticed the absence that I am still fighting. Still waving, not drowning.

I am half-leftover-in-love with the Unsuitable Boy, who continues to string me along one text message at a time. Consciously, I know we are wrong for each other, and intellectually I understand the complex reasons why I can't let go. He is one of the only people I've ever met who is crazier than I am, he makes me feel normal, I don't have to do my fake "Mary Poppins" persona with him and be cheerful/chirpy, I feel empathetic and compassionate towards him for his past. None of these things are foundation-for-relationship. The deal-breakers between us are many, but they make little or no impression on the sad and sorry part of me that just wants to be with him rather than without him.

Work situation is dire, I am crippled with boredom and apathy and as poor as the proverbial church mouse. Time is approaching when I make my yearly foray into the job market. I seem to only be able to manage 12 months at a job (the last three positions have been almost exactly one year). I need more money, greater stimulus, perhaps a wider range of social opportunity. Men. My workplace is 100% female, and sometimes I fear I may suffocate from the estrogen.

I have an appointment with a community financial counsellor this week, attempting to stave off the bankruptcy that has threatened me since my breakdown and loss of employment last year. When I left my husband I inherited a large debt that I've struggled to pay off, and with the added issue of only working part-time, and being badly paid, the debt has spawned other, lesser debts, that now threaten to engulf me. I am trying, so hard, to keep paying everything and keep food on the table. It makes me so very very tired.

This is one of those posts people will wish they never read lol. It all has to be said, for I would never want to self-censor, but I apologise for the lack of cheer. Bleak and dark days, my friends. But I continue to struggle against the black dog.

"Kathy, I'm lost" I said, though I knew she was sleeping

It's strange the things that can bring on the melancholy. My stepdad bought a dvd today, of Simon & Garfunkel's Concert in Central Park (1981 I think) and has been playing it while I was in the kitchen cooking. For a lot of different reasons, the songs brought up memories, mostly sad. When I was about 10 years old I found an LP record in my parents' collection that had a handwritten name on it I recognised. It turned out to be (as I suspected at the time), one of the few things my mother kept that had belonged to my father - a Simon & Garfunkel record that I would secretly play when my mother and stepdad weren't around. Over the years I became more and more enamoured of them, and folk music in general, and I ended up buying the Concert in Central Park album in about 1987. Hearing the songs again reminded me of how in those days, at 17, I was still under the misapprehension that being depressed was something I would "grow out of". I believed that all the low moods and suicidal thoughts were part of my groovy & creative personality and I channelled them as much as I could into writing songs, stories, poetry.

What struck me the most today was that I could recognise melancholy approaching, and rather than eagerly laying down and becoming its mistress, I fought it and won. I used Mindfulness to view the feelings objectively, and could see clearly (maybe for the first time) the two paths on offer. I could either go with the sad memories, and add to them in the same way I was adding ingredients to my vegie soup, ending up with a confusing mess of mixed emotions and general blah. Or, I could feel and acknowledge the sadness/loss, briefly revisiting the memory of the past before letting it go.

Half an hour later, instead of being bedridden, binge eating, self-harming or bawling, I was finishing off making my soup and starting on brownie cheesecake (as my birthday treat for tomorrow). All the while still singing along with Simon & Garfunkel (that's one long concert lol).

I used to think that my over-emotional or extreme reactions to songs, films, books, etc were part of my personality. With DBT, I view it differently -- the reaction is the first, "normal" part of the equation, and the BPD encouraged me to take the reaction to the extreme and let it overwhelm my thoughts and (therefore) my emotions. With the new filter of my Wise Mind I'm learning/trying to enjoy the reaction to the song (for instance), but keep it in context and balance. It's still not second nature to me, but I know it gets easier to practice DBT/CBT skills.

One of my all-time favourite songs, and my favourite S&G tune, is "Kathy's Song". I used to cry when I heard it, especially the lines:
"I sit and watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you, go I"
Forgive me if I've misquoted, I'm writing them from memory! Anyway, today I heard those words in a completely different context and they didn't make me sad. I even half-jokingly substituted "DBT" for "you" in the final line. This morning could have ended up very differently, much bleaker, without my new therapy. A few people I know who have done DBT call themselves "DBT Geeks", or DBT Obsessives - experiencing it work really does make you a convert/true believer! I hope I don't come across as simplifying Borderline, or other mental illness, and I am definitely not saying Dialectical or Cognitive Behaviour Therapy is the only way to treat these things. They have just worked for me, after many years of NOTHING working. And I wanted to share it.

And They Say Information Is Power...

All I've done since my visit with Doc A last week is read about SSRI medications, anti-psychotic medications, Cognitive-Behaviour Therapy and Borderline Personality Disorder. It's made my head spin. Okay, so the head was already spinning due to the depression, anxiety, impulsivity and emotional irregulation haha. But now it's even worse! The first doctor to suggest to me that I had Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) was during high school, and it's been mentioned in an offhand way since then, but never with any serious attempt to diagnose or cure. Doc A seems pretty certain, and all my reading has confirmed that I have all the recognisable symptoms.

• Turbulent and idealised relationships
• Impulsivity in self-damaging ways (binge eating *who me???*, shopping, stealing)
• Difficulty compromising or viewing "grey areas"
• Intense outbursts, often short-lived, of anger, depression, anxiety

One of the downsides of this diagnosis (and there are many, let me tell ya), is that traditional methods of treatment for depression often don't work, which could explain why I've had no relief from my SSRI (Zoloft) recently, and the new one Efexor is not much better. I'm so wary of SSRI medications now, having just finished the book Dying For A Cure - a biography by an Australian woman who was diagnosed with a range of mental illnesses, and prescribed a number of harmful medications, after presenting with mild postnatal depression. Basically, the meds made her very sick, and encouraged her to self-harm... thankfully she is now off medication and entirely well.

I don't think I was prescribed SSRI antidepressants for nothing. I have a large number of stories from the age of about 5 - 25, depicting varying instances of self-harm, depression, anxiety and hypomania. The medication didn't really change those thoughts or feelings, but seemed to "numb" me toward them. BPD has one major "cure" or treatment available in Perth, which is a 2 week Cognitive Behaviour Therapy course. By all accounts it's hard work, and intense, and involves yucky touchy-feely type "group work" hahahaha. Sharing and bonding and all that hippy junk!! But it will be worth it if I can learn how to regulate my emotions and moods and maybe start to live life on an even keel.

I'm shallow enough to worry about the effect of medications on my weight loss. Efexor is not known to be majorly fabulous at combating depression, BUT it supresses the appetite. One of my other on/off meds is Mirtazepine, an old-fashioned trycylic antidepressant, which can cause weight gain. I know, I know, I know...I shouldn't even care about that side effect. But damn it, I do. I've worked hard and paid well for this weight loss surgery, and I want it to continue working for me. Call me shallow...Call me Ishamel...Don't call me the white whale LOL!!!